Brother Keepers
Page 8
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"Oliver?"
The darkness doesn't prove to be final, and I awake upon the plush, leather sofa in Dr. Zito's luxurious study. My head swoons. My stomach feels a bit nauseous. But I don't feel any pain. Still, I don't move. I'm too scared that any movement might rip open whatever stitching or staples Oliver may have sewn into me after harvesting another pound of my flesh.
"Oliver?"
The robot whirls from around the corner. Dirt trails from his treads and muddies Dr. Zito's fine, Persian rugs. His hands look like no tool I've ever seen Oliver wield. His hands look like spades.
"How are you feeling, Ernie?" Oliver's voice sounds as calm as ever as his telescoping eye regards me. "Has your stomach settled from the anesthesia? Would you like a club soda?"
"I'm still alive, Oliver."
"Yes, Ernie. You are."
"But what happened?"
Those gears must be spinning around like crazy again in Oliver's noggin, because there's a long pause before that robot responds. "I'm afraid there were complications. I could not stabilize Dr. Zito's condition. His pulse dropped too quickly. There was too much oxygen loss to his brain. I'm afraid, Ernie, that Dr. Zito passed before I had any opportunity to harvest your heart."
"Truly?"
Again, those internal fans whirl beneath Oliver's plastic. "Ernie, have I ever lied to you before?"
"Not that I know, Oliver."
Oliver shakes his head. "I did my best to convince Dr. Zito to change his diet. I did my best to convince him to take a little exercise. In the end, the doctor simply failed to overcome his habits."
"You only put me asleep?"
"That's all, Ernie." The robot turns to retreat once again from the study. "If you're feeling better, I'll get back to my task at hand."
"What's that, Oliver?"
Oliver's head turns completely around so that his telescopic eye can click at me.
"I am digging Dr. Zito's grave."
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